


What makes you tick

by Lacertae



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Fingering, First Time, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Omnics, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Robot/Human Relationships, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-09
Updated: 2017-03-09
Packaged: 2018-10-01 14:45:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10192274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lacertae/pseuds/Lacertae
Summary: *Hanzo/Zenyatta*Lazy afternoon fingering.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was born from my self-challenge to write porn under 2k, as it is rather rare for me to wrap things up without making it long as fuck, and it just so happened that I chose Hanyatta as a pairing. I hope you enjoy!

The futon mattress was hard against his back, his legs spread apart and leaving him exposed.

It would have been an uncomfortable position, but Zenyatta was not aware of it, focused solely on the feeling of a finger pushing inside him.

It  was slick with lubrication, sliding inside him slowly, testing the feeling of the soft silicon and wires without hurry.

The feeling was foreign but not uncomfortable, and Zenyatta relaxed back against the floor. Hanzo was staring down at him, looking so serious that Zenyatta felt a chuckle bubble up to the surface. “I did not think you’d take this so seriously”.

Hanzo’s frown deepened. His other hand was pressed against the inside of Zenyatta’s thigh, thumb absently caressing one of the nodes there. “I wish to do this right,” was his quiet answer.

Zenyatta’s mirth softened into fondness and he nodded, head falling back against the thin mattress, and allowed him to continue without interruption.

Hanzo worked on him with slow, even movements. One finger turned into two, thick and nimble, and it did not take long for Zenyatta to feel the start of something building up within him, coaxed by Hanzo’s careful motions.

His sensors were receiving constant attention, and the feedback relay buzzed up to Zenyatta’s brain, making him squirm at the sensations as they turned from weird to pleasant.

When Hanzo’s fingers pushed deeper inside him, twisting against nodes he was not even aware existed, he arched his back, pleasure making his sensors flare up, and gasped out in surprise. “Ah–”

Above him, Hanzo made a soft, curious sound, and the fingers inside him moved with purpose, seeking that node again.

Zenyatta’s mind was overwhelmed with input, fans whirring loudly, soft gasps coming out from his voice box as his frame shook under the sudden onslaught of pleasure.

 “Here?” Hanzo sounded hushed, focused, and Zenyatta sluggishly reached out with a trembling hand, fingers finding Hanzo’s other hand and bringing it up to the curve of his mouth piece.

“Y-yes,” he answered, static blurring his voice in and out of focus. “It is… different”.

“Good,” Hanzo replied curtly, but there was an edge of satisfaction in his voice.

He crooked his fingers, knuckles pressing deeper, and Zenyatta seized up against him. He tightened his hold around Hanzo’s wrist, and his other hand dug into the mattress, scraping for purchase.

Having found what he wanted, Hanzo had grown confident all of sudden, frown melting into a satisfied smirk, and he moved his fingers with precision now, pressing against the nodes inside Zenyatta, rubbing his fingertips against it, teasing it and watching Zenyatta choke and gasp, his fans whirring loudly in the silence of the room.

“Don’t silence yourself,” Hanzo murmured, transfixed. “How does it feel?”

Zenyatta’s answer was a whimper, voice box cracking weirdly as he tried to think, processors fuzzy and clouded by pleasure.

The air around him was heavy, thick and hot, and Zenyatta tried to shuffle away from the constant, relentless caresses of Hanzo’s finger, unable to take so much feedback. He wanted to tell him how good it felt, but Hanzo hummed and held him down, muttering reassurances in Japanese until Zenyatta relented and slumped down on the mattress again, weak and trembling.

It was incredible –the touches were unlike anything he had felt before, Hanzo’s fingers working inside him like magic, and wherever they touched sent pleasure through him, enough that he was whimpering and writhing against the futon.

“Ah…”

He felt so _full_ already, and Hanzo was only using his fingers, and it was already so _much_ –

“Tell me how it feels,” Hanzo ordered him. He sounded collected, in control, but Zenyatta could feel his cock hard against his leg, and he pushed up against it with his knee.

Hanzo stiffened above him and moved away, fingers slipping out, and Zenyatta cried out at the loss, empty and unsated. “W–wha…?”

“I’m the one touching,” Hanzo told him, thumb sliding up the curve of his neck. His other hand caressed the metal around his opening, slick with lubricant, and Zenyatta shuddered, sensitive and feeling empty without Hanzo’s fingers inside him, and arched up towards him. “Behave, talk to me”.

“It fe… feels good,” it was hard to speak, static corrupting his tone until it sounded disjointed, metallic. The touch against him was distracting, but he wanted Hanzo to stop teasing him. “Your fingers inside me, they felt good, p-please, I need… _more_ ”.

Hanzo smirked. He was pleased by this admission, breathing hard and affected by the sight of Zenyatta looking so wrecked. “Yes, and I will give it to you,” he murmured, still smirking, and leaned down to brush his lips against Zenyatta’s mouth piece. Zenyatta registered the soft scratch of his beard against the metal, and gasped, every inch of his metal surface sensitive. “Hold on tight now”.

Zenyatta almost sobbed when he felt hanzo’s fingers push inside him again, and he welcomed them, arching his back to press himself flush against Hanzo’s chest.

He was burning up, Hanzo’s body heavy on top of him, his fingers moving again, pumping in and out of him, and Zenyatta did not even notice himself growing louder, static and white noise swallowing his cries and his pleas, legs twitching as they wrapped around Hanzo’s sides.

He’d never thought it could feel like this –so much pleasure all at once, from both the motions and Hanzo’s constant presence against him.

His fingers teased and caressed sensors deep inside him, coaxing more whines and sounds from him, making the world swim in and out of focus. All his senses were almost overwhelmed, working overtime to receive all sensations-and-data, processes culling themselves to make more room for him to focus solely on the pleasure, until nothing else existed but him and Hanzo, the rest of the world blurring out of focus.

Hanzo was murmuring something to him, his voice soft but pleased against the side of his head, and Zenyatta sobbed, arms wrapping around his shoulders.

He needed him closer, wanted more of this, but Hanzo’s pace was still slow and even, and it felt so good but it was _not enough_ yet, and he–

“Han-zo…” he called out, name distorted with static, and he felt Hanzo stiffen above him.

This was the first time he’d called out for him since the start, but the fingers inside him were still moving, so Zenyatta called his name again, this time louder, his face pressed against the crook of Hanzo’s neck.

He did not need air and yet he felt breathless, heady and unfocused, and everything felt _so good_ –

Hanzo moved his hips, thrusting down against him, his cock hard inside the confines of his pants and Zenyatta distantly wondered how it would feel, if instead of his fingers it was _him_ , filling him more than mere fingers ever could, and he felt a spike of need even as Hanzo’s fingers kept their even pace, teasing him without hurrying up.

“Is this good?” Hanzo’s voice sounded distant to him.

“Yes– yes _please_ –”

“Do you want more?”

“Yes, I can’t–” Zenyatta tried to think, but his thoughts were muddled and slow, his fans so loud he could barely hear himself speak over the noise, “Hanzo, please…”

Hanzo pushed harder against him, thrusting his hips down against Zenyatta, his cock rubbing against the front of Zenyatta’s opening, and his fingers angled deeper inside him, his pace turning into something frantic.

“Oh, yes, _ye_ –” Zenyatta’s moan itched higher and broke down into garbled static.

With Hanzo’s fingers working their way inside him faster now, he could barely think. His circuits flared up in pleasure, mind dizzy as Hanzo fucked him, barely any resistance as his fingers pumped inside him again and again, and Zenyatta tugged him closer, wanting them deeper, hungry for something he could not name that was so close, so–

“ _Oh_ –”

Hanzo leaned down, brushed his lips against Zenyatta’s mouth piece, breath hot against his metal, and kissed a path down the curve of his neck, lips and tongue teasing his pistons and his nodes, and Zenyatta crumbled and

gave in.

Stiffening, he reached his peak and toppled over, processes culled under the onslaught of pleasure, body slumping down against the mattress as Hanzo continued driving his fingers deep inside him, merciless, fucking him through his orgasm.

Overloaded with pleasure, Zenyatta felt it wash over him in waves, sensitive and sore and spent and deliciously sluggish as he slumped down against the futon, shuddering and trembling.

Belatedly, Zenyatta realised he’d been calling out Hanzo’s name over and over, and he abruptly silenced himself.

It took him a few seconds for his main system to reboot itself, and when feeling returned to him, body sending tentative data up to his brain, Zenyatta shuddered when he realised Hanzo had yet to remove his fingers, and that they were still moving.

The tip of his index was still rubbing at the nodes inside him, not as hard as before, but still enough for Zenyatta to take notice and _feel_ it, small sparkles of heightened pleasure making his fingers spasm.

“ _Again_ ,” Hanzo commanded, and Zenyatta felt his core stutter at his husky, breathy tone.

He could feel Hanzo’s cock, still hard, press insistently against him, but he made no move to take off his pants to free himself, content to rub against him.

 “I…” Zenyatta felt dizzy and spent, body almost vibrating as his system rebooted slowly, but the fingers inside him were distracting, nudging– “I don’t think I… _oh_ –” he felt sensitive, primed and ready, sensors buzzing and fans whirring loudly, and when Hanzo moved his fingers out of him, Zenyatta’s hips jutted forwards to follow them. “I…”

“Yes,” Hanzo coaxed him, gloating and smug, “Yes, you _can_ ”.

Zenyatta detached one arm from around his back and slid it clumsily between them, grabbing Hanzo’s slick, wet fingers in his hand and pressing them against his opening. “Yes,” he agreed, voice still glitching. “I can”.


End file.
